Dare on thin ice
by kristyblue
Summary: The grown-up daughter of Jareth and Sarah challenges Jack Frost to best her and claim Jareth's throne for himself. In the resulting conflict both the Labyrinth and the existence of all Fantastic Creatures are at stake, and it's up to Sarah and Jareth to save the day - while struggling with the challenges of parenthood. Includes "minor" crossovers (Artemis Fowl, Polar Express etc)
1. Chapter 1

_*** A different time, a different place ***_

_"You hold no power over me!"_

She had read those words on a book, and then repeated them aloud when the life of her baby brother, Toby, had been wholly dependant on her choice. She had pronounced those words under Jareth's sharp stare, and back then she had truly _believed_ in what she said. For the first time ever since her mother ran away, Sarah had felt strong... invincible. In a matter of hours or ages or - however long her journey in the Labyrinth had lasted - the skittish, elusive and stand-offish girl had grown into a self conscious teen who was aware of her strength and ready to face life much like she had faced him; with her head high.

_I don't care how terrifying you can be,_ she wanted to yell at him. _I'm not afraid of your powers, nor of your Goblin army. I've won this game, Your Highness. And I assure you, it won't be the last game I win either._

Back then she had known that whatever adversity might be waiting for her in the real world, it wouldn't have scared her one bit - for nothing in the real world could be more terrible than Jareth, Jareth whom she had outwitted. Defeating him was just another way to defeat her own fears. _I alone have power over myself, over my life! I. And no one else._

But was it true?

At that time, Sarah had told herself that it had to be so, that it was the only natural conclusion to her quest for her little brother, and that things couldn't have gone otherwise. _You or I, Goblin King. We can't both win._ Even though she had been swayed, for the smallest moment, by the bitter look in Jareth's eyes when he had thrown upward the little glass sphere. Yes, Jareth _could_ have been cruel with her and Toby, he could have played much more rough than he did and crushed her blossoming self-esteem... he _could_, but he hadn't. He had faced her not like an immensely powerful mythological creature mocking a foolish mortal, but almost as though - they were _equals_.

Sarah wished to no longer thought about the Goblin King - wished she could just forget him at the end of her adventure. Yet she had never quite managed. And in the following years, she had grown more and more doubtful of the scathing words she attacked him with in that distant day.

If he truly holds no power over me, then why I can't seem to forget him? Why, when I'm having nightmares, I frantically call his name and suddenly wake up in the safety of my room? It was almost as if his name alone could chase away the shadows.

When things somehow went wrong with her life, or when Sarah came to stand before an obstacle, she'd think back about his defeat and feel a great self-confidence wash upon her - yes. But deep at hearth she couldn't lie to herself, and the truth was that what made her feel so confident wasn't the remembrance of his defeat - rather, it was the thought of Jareth himself.

Then, one day, she had read something about soulmates in a book, and she had felt - dazed.

It was all fitting. She and Jareth were more alike than any of the two cared to admit. Stubborn - brazen - and yes, maybe they weren't the most _lovable_ people on earth, but behind the mask of cynicism and indifference, their hearts were attuned, in a way that had nothing to do with the rest of the world.

The day when she finally came to terms with the ties between them - her father had been killed in a car crash.

Toby had told her over the phone, and Sarah had quickly packed up her things and taken the first flight to meet her brother. She would have wanted to think that she was coming home - but that had stopped being her house since a very long time. She couldn't even recall when exactly she and her father had grown so... distant, although it had to be after Karen's death. Sarah had managed to reconcile with her mother-in-law and even lived some happy, carefree years with her family, following the adventure in the Labyrinth. But after Karen's death - it was as though the longing for the missed chances and the memories of their old disagreements had all stormed over Sarah's father, drawing him more and more away from his daughter. The outcome had seen Sarah moving to the opposite Coast of the States. She came back to her old house when it was her brother's birthday and for Christmas - and her father seemed sincerely happy to see her in those rare occurrences - but for the rest of the year, they barely ever called each other.

And now he was dead. Before Sarah had even had a chance to fix things, before her father had even found the courage to call on her and apologize. On the plane, suddenly, Sarah had realized that there'd have been no chance for them to make nice and she had burst in tears, unable to refrain. Time - with its merciless flow, with the power it held over the lives of people like her, people who had families and friends to mourn them - had suddenly seemed terrible...

She had pushed away those thoughts, and her mind had returned to that stand against Jareth in the Labyrinth. Once again, thinking about the Goblin King had chased away the darkness... but in a wholly different manner from what Sarah had expected. She had continued to mull about it during the flight, and even later, when a taxi cab carried her from the airport to the old house.

Toby's girlfriend, Charlotte, had let her in, and Sarah had exchanged a few words with her before rushing to greet her brother. She hadn't seen him since Christmas, and had felt a pang of sorrow in front of his pale, sunken face. His eyes were red and puffy, with deep shadows underneath. Clearly his father's death had been a tremendous shock, and for a moment Sarah had wondered whether her choice might be - after all - for the best...

They had embraced each other and stayed like that for a while. Without talking, without crying, in the middle of the room - there'd have been plenty of time for tears, before and after the funeral. Right then, the only thing that mattered was being together... a family. Even if it wasn't going to last.

She and Charlotte had talked Toby into swallowing some gulps of cold brew. Her nearly sister-in-law has told Sarah with her eyes that it was the first meal Toby touched, ever since the incident.

"It's tough, but you must get yourself together and hold on. For him", Sarah had begged.

Toby had grimaced.

"Yeah, I know."

"He'd be pained to see you like this..."

_"I know!"_

"I realize that it - hurts", Sarah had stammered, and her voice had broken while she struggled to hold back tears. "I miss him too... a lot."

A weak smile had flickered for a moment on her brother's face.

"I know this too."

Charlotte had whispered; "I'm gonna clean the dishes and go to bed." She had got up from the couch and ruffled Toby's hair affectionately. "You'll, uhm, want to be on your own. See you tomorrow, love. Goodnight, Sarah."

Later on, when her footfalls had vanished up the stairs, Toby had said hoarsely;

"I've already arranged things so that he'll be buried - next to Karen. That's what he would have wanted - I think."

Sarah had squeezed his shoulders.

"And you?", she had asked, looking him in the eyes. "What will you do now?"

"I'll sell the house and move somewhere else with Charlotte. Here I have too many..."

"... memories?"

"Yes. Of both."

"He would have been happy to know you've settled down. He really liked Charlotte."

Again, her brother had tried to smile. "Yes... she's a wonderful girl. I don't know how I could have managed without her." And, after a pause; "Or without you."

"Don't even mention it. Now I'm here."

"How long do you plan on staying?"

"I wanted to leave after the funeral, but now that I know your plans, I'll just wait until you and Charlotte move out on your own. If that's alright with you two", she had hastily added, not wanting to upset him.

"Your room is always there."

"Thanks." Sarah had looked at him affectionately and then, on a sudden impulse, she had asked; "Look, why don't you come with me? You and Charlotte. Would you like that?"

"You'd want us - to move in with you? In Reno?"

"No. I, er..." Sarah had gathered all her strengths, before adding; "I'm not going back in Reno, Toby. I'll settle a few things and then... I want to move _there_."

Toby had turned and looked at his sister as if seeing her for the first time.

"There? Do you mean..."

"In the Underground, yes", she had replied breathlessly.

Toby's reaction had been - disappointing. The young man had stayed silent, staring blankly ahead of himself. He didn't even seem to have heard his sister.

"Toby, please, tell something! Get mad, yell at me if you wish... but say something!", she had begged.

"I'm sorry, I was just - thinking. When did you get this idea in your head?"

"Today, on the plane. It was a last minute choice, but I feel it's the right thing to do."

Toby had nodded sullenly toward the dark rooms, that seemed emptier than usual. "Does it have anything to do with... this?"

"It has everything to do with this. I can't go on losing the people I care for, Toby, I can't..." In the darkness, Sarah had turned to look at him and for a moment she had struck Toby as small, helpless and fragile. As though she was the little sister. Toby would have wanted to comfort her, but all he had managed to say was;

"And what about - what about me, Sarah?"

"This is exactly why... oh, Toby, come with me - you and Charlotte! We could start over from scratch, just the three of us. Time flows differently in the Underground, it's not like - in our world..."

"What would you want - to live forever?"

"What if I do? That way we shouldn't worry about leaving someone behind or... being left behind." Those words had come out in a flash, before she even knew it. Seeing her brother's face darken, she had wanted to slap herself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't..."

"You said nothing wrong, don't fret. By the way - what about that Gnome King..."

"Goblin", Sarah had corrected him. She hadn't been able to refrain a smile at the thought of Jareth's reaction if anyone had called him Gnome King.

"Yeah, him... You always said you knocked him down a few notches, remember? What will you do if he shouldn't let you stay in his world?"

"I'll think about it later", Sarah replied. Actually she wasn't certain at all of what kind of welcome Jareth would reserve her, but she didn't want to tell Toby about that.

Her brother only had the faintest memories of the Underground and of Jareth. Basically - he knew that world only through his sister's tales and the words of Hoggle, Didymus and Ludo.

When Toby was just a kid, he often asked to play with his sister's friends. But later on, as he grew older - he had come to consider them "loony" and disinterested more and more about them. The last time he had mentioned them was at the age of thirteen, when he has asked his sister if "those guys" still visited her.

_"Yes, whenever I feel like talking with them", she had answered, surprised that he still remembered. "You'd like me to bring them your regards?"_

_"Maybe some other time", Toby had shrugged, before heading back to his Playstation._

That night, Sarah had seen the self same indifferent look on his face and understood what his answer would be.

"You don't believe in the Underground anymore, do you, Toby?"

"Sarah, please. Our father just died, and you're bringing up our... no, _your_ draydreams!"

"They aren't daydreams! It happened for real - and you were there! Don't you remember when Dydimus told you about the lives of knights, and you just wanted to pull Ludo's horns?"

"Shut it!", snapped Toby, leaping to his feet. "I don't know if those things happened for real or if they only exist in my head. Christ, Sarah! The time for fairy tales is over. We're two grown-ups!"

It sounded almost funny that those words came from the nineteen years old boy - while she, the older and level-headed woman, had just claimed that the Underground existed for real.

And yet - Sarah had stood her ground, ever stubborn.

"Don't you see that here we're doomed to always leave something incomplete? I never told our father that I loved him, and now it's too late. I don't want it to happen again, Toby. I don't want to worry about time's passing _again_."

Her brother had lowered his head, without looking her way.

"Are you... sure?"

"I am. And I'd really like you to come with me, Toby."

"Charlotte would never agree. Even supposing that I believe in all this bullshit of an Underground - and I'm not saying that I believe it - she has her sisters, her parents. I can 't ask her to leave everything just for me."

"But her family could..."

"Could what, now? Move in an imaginary world? Sarah, be serious. If you talked about all this with one of Charlotte's relatives, they'd all think you've gone crazy." He seemed about to add something else, but then he had looked at her and his features had softened. "If this is what you wish, then go."

"But this way, you..." She didn't want to say it. She couldn't even begin to fathom a future without her brother - her only living relative.

"You claim that in the Underground, time has different rules than in our world. Are you willing to wait for me, Sarah?"

Her pulse had quickened.

"Wait for you? But..."

"I'm not promising you anything", Toby had added. "I don't want to live forever while my future wife and my children grow old and die. But if Charlotte and I were not to have kids... maybe some day, in a fifty or sixty years from now, we'll consider your offer. Are you willing to wait for a day that might - or might not - come?"

"Yes, of course. I'll wait you always, Toby", she had promised, and rushed in his arms. And finally, the two brothers had broken into liberating sobs on each other's shoulder - they had wept until the early morning hours.

The next three months had been frantic. After her brother and Charlotte moved to their new home, Sarah had briefly returned in Reno to get some sort of closure to her past life. She hadn't told a thing to Charlotte about her projects - Toby would have told her when the time was right.

Sarah had found a buyer for her flat; she had emptied the cupboards and taken all her things down the shelves. She was only going to take one thing with her - the old, worn out book with the red cover and the title in bright gold letters, the book that had followed her through a number of moves. She wasn't going to need anything else - where she was going.

She threw a last glance to the town's skyline, pulled the curtains closed and drew a deep breath. Then she murmured quietly;

_"I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away. Right now."_

Suddenly the windows were thrown open - even if there was no wind outside. A whirl of snowy white feathers clogged the room, and Sarah's heart leaped to her throat. She knew, even before turning, just who she was going to see.

Jareth. The Goblin King. Identical to what he had been like, nineteen years prior.

_"Hello, Sarah. Did you call?"_


	2. Chapter 2

_*** Many moons later ***_

"Mother? Did you hear what I just said?"

Trisha's voice abruptly interrupted the flow of her thoughts. Sarah looked up from the little glass sphere that she had stared at until that very moment - but without really seeing it.

"Sorry", she said with a weak smile. "I was..."

"... distracted, yes. Your mind was flowing to the past." Trisha frowned. "But you did not look happy to ride the wheel of time backward. Were you thinking about sad memories?"

"Just the first half. Actually, I was thinking about the day I saw your father for the second time in my life."

"How odd", said Trisha, almost as if talking to herself. Sarah glanced at her quizzically.

"I don't get... why it should be strange?"

"Because usually, when you think about _him_, your face lights up and your eyes smile. This time instead you seemed... downcast."

"You know, it... wasn't an easy choice. I'd have wanted your uncle Toby to come with me. And it hurt me to leave him behind."

"But mother, you're going to see him in another cycle of the seasons, next Samhain", Trisha pointed out, putting her hands on her hips; she looked extraordinarily like her father, standing that way. "If you did not live together in the Aboveground, what's so different anyhow?"

"Well... if your uncle and your aunt Charlotte lived here, I could see them every other day."

Sarah did not feel like telling her daughter about the other - and much more serious reason - why she'd have so wished to have her brother in the Underground. When she had visited him at Halloween, she had been shocked by how much his fine hair, once blond and then salt-and-pepper, had turned snowy white. And Charlotte had the same smile as ever - but her hands were contracted by arthritis, spidery and pale. Sarah on the other hand was still identical to when she was thirty - and Trisha, whose glorious, golden path to Fae adulthood had just begun - seemed just shy of her twenty, when her age in human terms would have been closer to fifty than to forty.

_Toby and I don't even look like brother and sister anymore,_ Sarah had thought with a heavy heart. _Seeing us now - one would almost think that he's the father and Trisha and I are his daughters._ Toby, however, hadn't told her anything about moving in the Underground, and neither had Charlotte... although Sarah had hoped to the very last minute that they did.

Trisha couldn't understand, of course. She had been born an immortal - she had never _decided_ to become one. Sometimes, Sarah felt a slight tinge of jealousy toward her husband and her daughter; for them, time truly was devoid of all meaning, while for her - even now that she was no longer subjected to its rules - it was still a vague and undefined threat, a dark shadow looming over the affections of her brother and her sister-in-law. She felt that she would have never been able to think - or rather, not think - about time the way Trisha and Jareth did.

"If you miss him so much, why don't you have him cross the Labyrinth?", asked her daughter, who had observed her inner struggle silently.

Astonished, Sarah looked up at her.

"What are you speaking about, Trish?"

"Uncle Toby", Trisha answered pointedly, as if it was really obvious. "You take him and uncle Charlotte in the Labyrinth and give them thirteen hours to solve it. They lose, they stay, end of the problem."

"Are you _kidding_?", snapped Sarah. "If it's a joke, I don't find it even the slightest bit funny!"

Trisha's eyes narrowed.

"I would never joke on a matter that holds such importance for you, mother."

"But I... you..."

"This is the purpose of the Labyrinth, isn't it? And you want uncle Toby to move in the Underground."

"Of his free will! I don't want to force him to live here!" Sarah flushed with anger.

"Did I ever talk about _forcing_ him?" replied Trisha, cocking a thin dark eyebrow. "The Labyrinth isn't a prison from which there is no escape. If he solves it in time, he can return to his life in the Aboveground."

"I barely solved it, and I wasn't even half his age", Sarah bellowed. "Forget it, Trish. I don't even want to hear such things from you again."

Trisha shrugged. "What a pity." She took the glass sphere from her mother's hand and made it whirl - dance - with the same hypnotic movements that Sarah knew so well. "If you had wanted to go that route, I would have been glad to help."

"Of course." Sarah grimaced. "And you're not forgetting anything?"

Trisha raised her eyes, with a sudden hostile flash in her stare.

"What is it that I've forgotten, pray tell?" she hissed.

"For an instance", an amused voice between them said, "that until further proof, it's up to _me_ to decide who must solve the Labyrinth."

Trisha betrayed no surprise. Only her face stiffened for a moment, while her mother turned toward the owner of the voice.

Jareth was leaning to a wall, his arms lazily crossed over his chest; he was wearing his ceremony garbs and smirking deviously from ear to ear. His hair seemed to bathe his shoulders in pure light, and crowned the piercing and astute eyes that the Goblin King had passed on to his daughter.

"You like catching people off guard, now don't you", Sarah playfully remarked.

Jareth tilted his head sideways.

"Caught you off guard, precious? I don't get it. _You_ called my name, just a moment ago..."

"I'm positive I _didn't!_"

"Maybe not aloud... but in your thoughts, you did", he promised. His stare then moved on to Trisha, who had stayed still like a statue, her balled fists laying at her sides. "What about you, my dear? Had you foretold that I would interrupt your talk?"

The young Fae shook her head with mild irritation, and her dark hair captured the light.

"I knew that uncle Toby wasn't going to face the Labyrinth... not today, at any rate", she added, flashing a disdainful glare at Sarah. "It could either mean that my mother would not hear of it - or that you'd not allow it."

Jareth pretended to be amazed.

"Formidable... you _knew_ all this, and you still tried to push your mother into doing things your way?"

"The future is not static and unchangeable", she sharply retorted. "Endless trails of possibilities depart from our every actions... and they are all equally valid until one picks which way to go. I merely encouraged my mother to pick the route that I believed was preferable."

"And you did so most - ah, disinterestedly, daughter, did you?", Jareth mockingly suggested.

"You make it sound like I have some hidden agendas for wanting my uncle in the Underground", Trisha challenged. The sneer on her father's handsome face widened.

"All this sudden interest for your mother and your uncle Toby... Are you perhaps developing a shred of sentiment, my dear? Or is this just your umpteenth attempt to oust me?"

Trisha balled her fists and glared murderously at the Goblin King, who returned her stare with equal coldness. Anger, barely contained, seemed to ripple in the air around them. A wrong word or a look the wrong way and hell would break loose.

"Let's all try to cool off", Sarah piped up hastily. She placed a hand on her husband's shoulder - more in the attempt to hold him back than to actually soothe his ire. "Trisha wasn't trying to push me into doing anything... she knows full well she can't", she said sternly, and looked her daughter square in the eyes - as if challenging her to protest. "We were just talking about matters of no importance, my dear."

Trisha still looked somewhat rebellious, but her mother's sharp glare made her avert her eyes as she stepped back.

"Anything the matter?", Jareth taunted her. Sarah elbowed him in the ribs, warningly.

"The choice has been taken", Trisha answered through clenched teeth. "Nothing I say can influence or... _sway_ the flow of events, now." She spat the word, sway, as if it had been venomous. Then she hesitated, before adding; "Therefore... I guess that we _were_ effectively talking about _matters of no importance."_

_For now, _she thought, glaring angrily at the tip of Jareth's leather boots.

As if nothing unusual was going on, the Goblin King turned back to Sarah and held out his arm to her. "Shall we go, precious? The ball is about to start."

"Alright", she quickly answered. "Come, Trisha."

"Mother, must I?", complained the young Fae. "I'd much rather wait you here, if it's not a problem."

Jareth sneered.

"I don't think so. Lazing around the throne on your own would be - too great a temptation."

"I'm not going to blow it up, you know", she snapped back.

"The last time we took our leave, you tried to lure two mortals in the Labyrinth", the Goblin King reminded her. "But things didn't exactly turn out the way the way you had expected, did they?"

Outraged, Trisha squared her shoulders.

"That was just an accident! I did not know who those mortals were, I had not bothered to study them. I did wrong, yes? You'll keep throwing it in my face for all eternity, father?"

"I hope that it won't take that long before you become a responsible Queen."

"Enough!", hissed Sarah. She seized her husband's arm and piloted him firmly onward. "Can we give it a break, at least for now?"

"You ought to know that your wish is _my_ command, precious", Jareth replied. Trisha did not fail to notice the way - the_ entirely intentional_ way - in which he underlined the words _"my command"_.

"I bow to the will of my Queen and lady mother", she hissed, as if to make it clear that it was only Sarah's interference that stayed her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

_*** At the ball ***_

Sarah held onto Jareth's neck and let him spin her around gently.

It was a dream. A glowing dream of glitters and flashes of silver that seemed to glide on the wings of the romantic, captivating music...

The ballroom looked nothing like the one of their first dance - chaotic and smokey and somewhat decadent altogether. Sarah was vaguely aware of the other dancers around them, but as though from a great distance. The guests fell back around the Goblin King and the Champion of the Labyrinth, and somehow contributed to create the illusion of an invisible wall between Sarah, Jareth and the rest of the room.

"Are you happy, my queen?", Jareth whispered. Even after all those years together, his voice could send a shiver down her back. Without looking away from his beautiful iridescent eyes, Sarah answered;

"I am always happy with you."

A bemused smirk flashed across Jareth's face.

"That pleases me... I was worried you'd find me somewhat rusty."

"They say dancing is a bit like biking, isn't it?", she joked. "It's not been that long since the last time we did..."

"Every single instant I spend away from you seems to last for all eternity... and it took an eternity before I met you", Jareth said solemnly. Something in his tone seemed strangely off-key with the impish smirk of a few moments prior. Though trifling, it was enough to set off a warning bell in Sarah's mind.

"What do you mean, Jareth?"

"Nothing", he murmured, after a slight hesitation.

Sarah threw him a puzzled glance, confused. But since Jareth wasn't bothering to explain a thing, she went on;

"You make it sound as if we're going to part for a while. But that's not the case, is it? Look - if you're going somewhere, I'll come with you. You know."

"That's - not the point."

"Then what is the point? Don't leave me hanging."

Jareth's fierce, unblinking eyes latched onto Sarah's green ones. He asked her in return;

"Is Trisha right when she claims that you're still distressed about your brother?"

"I don't understand", she replied nervously. "What does Toby have to do with...?"

"You know - I never understood why you fussed so terribly about him." Jareth shook his head and sighed. "And now instead..."

"Now instead - what?", she demanded. "Jareth, we agreed we'd have no secrets - remember?"

"What makes you think I'm hiding something from you, precious?", asked Jareth, quickly regaining his lordly composure. "You know that I could never lie to you. Just fear me, love me, do as I say... and I will be your slave", he whispered.

"Then tell me what the matter really is. What did you mean when you said that - before you didn't understand my concerns for Toby?"

The Goblin King averted his stare, without answering.

"Do you mean - that now you understand?"

He continued to remain silent.

"Jareth...?", his wife exhorted him.

"Do you know how the dynastic lineage works in the Underground, precious? Do you know what it - implicates?"

Sarah blinked, completely at a loss. "I don't get it..."

"It's all quite simple", Jareth explained. "The Labyrinth itself picks a worthwhile successor to its King, the very moment it comes across him or her. Your case was different - _special_. You boasted your challenge all around, but the Labyrinth recognized - even before we did - that there was an underlying symmetry to your power and mine." He smirked. "In other words - you could never have been Queen, was I not King alongside you."

"I - I'm not quite sure what you're getting at", Sarah stammered. "What does all this have to do with...?"

"When you asked me to steal your brother, I took him to my castle, just as you expected me to", Jareth said ruefully. "In that very instant, the Labyrinth picked him to be the next King."

Sarah's breath was knocked out of her; she came to such an abrupt halt that she crashed right into another dancing couple.

"Toby? You're telling me that Toby is..."

"Not yet... but if he was to set foot in the Underground, the call of the Labyrinth would ultimately prompt him to claim the rank that is rightfully his." Jareth's voice was deadpan.

"And in order to do so..."

"Aye, precious. In order to do so - he must first make a stance against me."

They stood still - as if crushed under the weight of that sudden realization. Sarah's head was spinning; she clutched her husband's arms and he helped her lean against his chest. The other dancers had returned to their music and laughter, and were drifting lazily around them - utterly, completely unsuspecting.

"Is it... I mean... does it really have to be?", begged Sarah, as soon as she found her voice. "Isn't there another way...?"

"Alas, no. The defeated King's life - his very fate - lays in the hand of his successor."

The Goblin King's jaw clenched slightly as he pronounced those words. Shocked as she was, Sarah did not fail to notice that.

"Jareth? Are you... _afraid_ of Toby?" It seemed so - so - ludicrous! In his current Aboveground incarnation, Toby was just an ailing old man, and Jareth was...

"I'm not worried about the eventuality that your brother should replace me."

"But you just said yourself..."

Jareth attempted to smile. "The bond between you and your brother could set him in my favour. I'm not questioning that."

"Toby would never dream of harming you", Sarah promised him strongly.

"I know that. The other heir instead... I'm just not sure what to expect from that side."

The Champion of the Labyrinth widened her eyes incredulously.

"Is there _another_...?"

"You had not yet figured it out?" Jareth raised a thin blonde eyebrow. "Precious, it is no coincidence if Trisha has grown so rebellious as of late. Now that she's an adult Fae, the Labyrinth has started whispering in her ears. Her outbursts, the way she keeps testing me - it's all part of a slow and patient training program. And when she'll _feel_ ready..."

"Not - Trisha?", Sarah gasped. "Do you mean that our daughter..."

Jareth nodded seriously. He was staring at something on the other end of the crowd - a flamboyantly dressed figure who had just approached Trisha and was talking with her in good confidence.

"To the light of how much she takes after me? I'd not be one bit surprised if _our daughter_ was the one to have me tossed in the Oubliette until it - or I - rots."


	4. Chapter 4

_*** In the meantime ***_

Trisha couldn't figure out for the sake of her life what her parents found so cool in surrounding themselves with all those merry-making bootlickers.

She was leaning onto a pillar, and her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders as she idly watched the dancers whirl around her. Now and then she flashed the occasional smile or polite nodd, while deep at heart she only wished to send them all dancing in the Bog. _Now_ that _would have been amusing._

Her mother and father had managed to end up dancing on the other end of the ballroom, as far as possible from where she stood. Trisha was rather sure that it had been Jareth's idea alright. Those last days he was always stand-offish - restless - although he tried not to show it when her mother was around.

So he knows what things are underway, she mused. Even though he did not possess her Gift, the Goblin King had his ways to discover things. Perhaps she had been a tad too predictable. And now her father was going to be on guard... which meant - Trisha arched a thin dark eyebrow - that she had to do the same, if she wanted to have any chance at all.

She felt her stomach twirl and then churn. The Gift, of course, was going to play in her favor, and yet - she wondered if even that could be enough, when her opponent was an infinitely older and more powerful Fae...

"Can I have a toast with the future ruler of the Underground?", asked a cheerful voice.

Behind her was a thin and smiling man, with a complexion so pale it seemed almost made of porcelain. He was wearing a white shirt under a dark pin suit, striped with blue and silver - it really did bring out the blue color of his eyes. His hair was also silver, styled in frosty spikes, and his eyebrows were made of tiny little ice crystals. Instead of a tie, the funny-looking man had an icicle. He was holding out one glass for himself and one for the young Fae.

Trisha regarded him for a split second, then took the offered glass with a thankful nodd.

"Then you are the reason why I had foreseen I'd not be fetching myself a drink," she smiled. "Aren't you the winter herald? What's that name again - Fog?"

"Frost", he corrected her, smile still unfaltering. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. They were cold as ice. "Jack Frost. At your disposal, Princess."

Suddenly, Trisha's face seemed to cloud.

"Aw, and you'd had such a good start..."

"Did I say anything wrong?", asked Frost, confused by her sudden change in demeanor.

"Not quite. I'd just rather go as Trish or Trisha." After all, the rank of Princess implied that there was someone - someone like a King or a Queen - standing just a step above her.

"I'll remember that", Jack Frost assured, restoring his bright smile. "Trisha, what a beautiful name. It is..."

"It just means 'noble'", she counterpointed. "Still, a merely descriptive name is preferable to a rank that does not sit well with me at all."

The cold man seemed even more puzzled.

"Aren't you proud of your heritage?"

"Not particularly - and in such times as today, I'd do far better sans."

"How odd", Frost said slowly, his eyes twinkling as he regarded her. "There's people in this very room who would sell their soul to be in your place, while you..."

"While I'd sell my soul to no longer be the Goblin Princess. You got that right", Trisha grinned. "It's no big deal, though - I don't play to remain one for so much longer. Cheers!", she concluded, tilting her glass toward him for a toast. She took a sip and grimaced. "Urgh, this stuff is disgusting. My father should totally have the human slaves oversee the refreshments. Goblins just can't do things right."

"Your father has human slaves at his service?", asked Jack, rather dumbstruck.

"Only for thirteen hours a time."

"Yeah, the catering could be better", he stated, looking around himself. "Would you like a slush?"

"Would I like a - what?" Trisha stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"It's a frozen drink. The mortals rather fancy that."

"Right - right, I had forgotten you work in the Aboveground." The young Fae frowned in an attempt to remember more clearly. "Somewhere around the Arctic Circle, aye?"

"Yeah - the North Pole." Jack Frost nodded, smiling.

"So you're an assistant of that... Kringle fellow?"

"No, Kringle retired a while ago", he grimaced. "Now there's another guy. Calvin. He is the new Santa Clause."

"Calvin", she repeated, as if that name had a special meaning for her. She glanced sideways at Jack Frost, smiled and hissed; "So they shelved you again..."

She immediately knew that the barb had touched a sore nerve; Jack looked up sharply and flashed her a resentful glare.

"I don't really know what you're speaking of", he replied through his teeth.

Trisha shrugged. "I'm just saying that it's a wasted opportunity. You would have been far greater experience than any new guy."

"Oh - that was what you meant..." Frost attempted to smile again - though this time around, the result was far more strained and far less convincing. "Well - you may be on to something there, of course - but I guess it's better off this way... you know, so that everyone has his specialty."

"If you rate the merely efficient choice over the more logical one", she agreed, looking absent-mindedly at the content of her own glass.

It seemed as though both parties had run out of subjects, and the conversation languished for a while. They stood there and watched the dancing couple, without exchanging so much as a word. It was quite pointless to remain there, but Trisha certainly wasn't going to take her leave; after all, it was Frost who had sought her out first.

With the corner of her eye, though, she noticed that his smile was growing brighter and brighter by the minute. Now he seemed a lot more at his ease than he had been moments before.

"You know", he finally said, "I really don't get how a lovely creature like yourself can stay a wallflower. Feel like dancing?"

"If you care about it", she replied. She was quickly getting fed up with that - that weird fellow. Perhaps she had been sorely mistaken about him all along; maybe Jack Frost was just another slimy bootlicker. She'd have such a kick throwing him in the Bog of the Eternal Stench.

He held out his hand to her and she took it - but just as Jack Frost's fingers brushed hers, Trisha looked up sharply, with a barely suffocated cry of surprise.

Startled, he hastily let her go.

"What's wrong?", he asked. "Are my hands too c...?"

"No - I'm fine", she answered with a metallic voice. She was staring, transfixed, to the glowing tendrils laced around Jack Frost's wrists. When their hands had touched, two tendrils had latched onto the ones departing from her own wrists. An heartbeat later, the four lines had merged into one glowing thread.

Astonished, Trisha watched the thin glowing rope slide on the floor and then crawl off among the dancers, as if driven by purpose. She followed it all the way up to a pair of boots - Jareth's boots - and then she sharply turned toward poor dumbstruck Jack Frost, and her icy gaze softened.

"Are you certain you're alright?", he asked. This time there was a hint of genuine concern in his voice. Obviously he wasn't keen to find out just what the Goblin King would do if his daughter fell sick after talking with him.

"I'm fine, really", she replied, in a calmer voice.

"So - er - do you still want to dance?"

Trisha nodded and let her hand slip in his own. This time he did not pull back, even though the young Fae could feel his contracted nerves under the cold skin. Smiling weakly, Jack Frost slipped an arm around her waist and she latched onto his neck as they made their way among the other dancers.

"You're not afraid to get a little cold, are you?", he asked, with a toothy smile. "You'd not rather put on a shawl or something of the sort?"

Like her mother, Trisha was in an off-the-shoulders gown, but that did not seem to be a hindrance to her.

"Relax, Frost. I'm immune to cold-induced diseases", she retorted. Smiling, she winked at him. "And besides... all women dream to dance with a man who sends shiver down their spine."

Jack laughed. "Then I guess this is your lucky day, Princess."

_More than you know, Frost_, she thought, barely suppressing a sneer. She looked around and asked;

"Tell me, is any other member of the Council of the Legendary Figures about? I hadn't been told we'd have such illustrious guests."

"No, no, I'm here of my own accord."

"And how is the Sandman? It's been a while since the last time he was about... although I guess that he and my father have their own privilege channels to stay in contact."

"Last I've heard, he wasn't in a very... talkative mood", Jack cautiously replied. "You... er, you know him well?"

"Oh, no, hardly at all. I've met him at a few atrocious court party, and he slept for the greatest part of the time. Honestly, I'm amazed that my father would give such an important task to that fellow. Santa is fortunate to have you as his herald..."

"Actually my job is - a little different", Jack pointed out. "Besides, Santa would not miss a Council meeting or his life, so I'm not exactly speaking in his stead... like Sandy does for your father." He smiled thinly at her and added in a tone of self-importance; "Anyway, I like it much better this way. I can devote my time to more... important matters."

"Just what kind of matters?"

Jack smirked. "That's classified. Not trying to bribe me, are you?"

"It depends", answered Trisha, lowering her voice to a conspirational whisper. "What is your price?"

Jack Frost leaned closer, his eyes twinkling. "Is it true what they say - that you can foresee the future?"

"I have the Gift, though it only shows me how the possible futures branch out. I can't know just what thread of fate one is going to pick, until it unfolds in the present." Trisha smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, it's not easy to put into words..."

"I don't care about the inner workings", he said, waving a hand as if to chase a fly. "What do you see in _my_ possible futures?"

Trisha pretended to be thinking about it, then she threw her head back and laughed heartily.

"I'm afraid that's classified too. And if you're considering bribe - you do so at your own risk", she warned him playfully.

"What's life without some risk?", Jack grinned. "Right, what do you want in exchange? I can put in a good word or two with the Council to have you replace the Sandman..."

She raised a hand to silence him. "Thanks, but I have no plans to become my father's next spoke person in the Council. Like you, I have more important matters to see to. By the way - is Father Time still about?", she idly asked.

Jack Frost wasn't expecting that. He struggled to hide his irritation for that sudden change of subject, but in the end managed to put up a thin smile.

"Yeah, still going strong."

Trisha grimaced. "Between you and me, I don't think he likes me all that much. When I was a kid, I thought he must be a relation to our Wiseman - and thus a subject of my father's. He never forgave me for that."

"Father Time doesn't really like anyone", Jack answered lamely.

"Not even you?"

"_Especially_ not me."

"Well - my father doesn't like the lot of them", said Trisha, with a flash in her gaze. "He can't stand those guys, that's why he always sends the Sandman in his stead. I really shouldn't be telling you this, Frost, but..." she bit on her lower lip, uncertain as to how to go on.

"But...?", he encouraged her gently.

"He _especially_ loathes your boss, Santa."

Just as she had expected, Jack Frost stiffened hearing those words.

"You mean that your father doesn't like Santa Clause?", he slowly repeated.

"That's logic, if you think about it", she said. "My father turns little unwanted mortals in goblins - whereas Santa brings love, cheer and beautiful presents. What are the odds that a child in his good list may end his days as a goblin? That's unfair competition."

"Interesting", drawled Jack Frost. He seemed transfixed with the images that Trisha's words were painting in his mind. She seized just that moment to move in for the final strike.

"I think my father would get a kick out if he was to cross the Labyrinth. That would be a nice payback for all the goblins Santa deprived him of..."

"And what happens to those who don't solve the Labyrinth in thirteen hours?", he asked breathlessly.

"They get lost in their own dreams and can't ever leave - while their hostages become new dumb, smelly goblins." Trisha shook her head and smiled. "Anyhow, my father only has it personal with Santa. You have nothing to do with all this, don't worry."

Slowly, Frost's eyes seemed to focus on her again. "Really?"

"Of course. Everyone can see that you're an okay fellow", Trisha promised. "And besides... _I_ fancy you, ice lord."

They had stopped in their tracks, and she quickly seized the chance to move closer - until she could brush her nose along his cheek. Jack seemed taken aback, but then he smiled and let go of her hand, surrounding her waist with both arms - holding her tighter. His cold breath tickled her face and her neck, making her shiver - only those shivers had nothing to do with the temperature of the room...

"Then it's all for the better that we hit off so nicely..." the winter herald whispered.

"Most correct, Jack." Trisha bit on her lower lip. "I meant...", she said, looking up at him. His face was only a few inches away from hers. "Frost..."

Deep at heart, she felt elated - triumphant. Almost there... he was about to kiss her, and then it would have been _a piece of cake..._ seducing, confusing, manipulating him like a mindless pawn. Just then however, Trisha threw a look over his shoulders and realized that Jareth was watching them from the other end of the dance floor. _Curse it!_, she seethed. _Why he must always notice everything?_

A split instant before Jack Frost's lips brushed hers, she pulled back and threw him a cold, calculating glance.

"What about that scrawny girl from the Aboveground?", she asked, squaring her shoulders. "The one who spoke in that strange language... she worked for Santa too, if I'm not mistaken."

Jack stared wonderingly back at her. "What do you mean? What scrawny...?"

"Wasn't her name Beniamina?", she asked with sarcasm. "I've seen the two of you at some party or other. She was dying after you."

"What... oh, wait!" Jack's face brightened. "Do you mean that... _italyan_ who oversees to the production of sweets and candies? I have nothing going on with her!", he hastily assured. "Well, perhaps I told her some niceties, just to be polite..."

"I'm warning you here, Frost. I don't like competing for what I want." There was a threatening note, now, in Trisha's voice.

"Of course! What competition can there be between a beauty of your caliber and a simple - a mere - an over-grown Santa labourer like her? No one in their right mind would compare..."

Trisha sighed and let her stare roam over the couples dancing around them.

"I don't know whether I should trust you... But I still want to give you a chance, Frost. Something tells me you'll be worth my while." She looked up at him and couldn't hold back a bright smile. "What about continuing where we left off in - ah, somewhere more private? Perhaps we can even reach some agreement about your future."

"Alright", he answered readily. "Where can we meet?"

"I wonder what your end of the Aboveground's like", Trisha murmured absent-mindedly. "Maybe on your way back, you could... wish that the daughter of the Goblin King would come to you. Right now."

Jack Frost smiled triumphantly.

"I most definitely will."

"Oh, and Frost - one more thing", she added casually, while they went back to dancing. "If I was to wait your invite for too long, I might as well decide that I have different plans for the evening. Just so you know", she added, with a sharp smile.


End file.
